Riley sat in the cramped briefing room at the station, the weight of every eye in the room on her. She was still adjusting to being free from her brothers. Across the table sat Sergeant Donnelly, his usual composed demeanor slightly softened by concern. Next to him, members of the Guns and Gangs task force were seated, along with some senior officers, Detective Jackson, and, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed and jaw clenched, Luke.

"All right, Torres," Sergeant Donnelly started, his tone professional but with a note of empathy. "You mentioned you overheard some things while you were captive. Let's go over what you know about Sinclair and his operations."

Riley shifted in her seat, feeling the weight of the room's attention. She took a deep breath and began, trying to recall every detail.

"My brothers, Mike and Kyle... they weren't acting like themselves the whole time I was there. More paranoid than usual," she started, her voice steady but low. "They had a guy over a couple of times. His name was Carl, but I don't know if that's his real name. He was part of Sinclair's crew. They're moving something big soon—a shipment. Guns, most likely. They mentioned it happening sometime next month."

She paused, glancing around the room to gauge their reactions. Jackson scribbled something down in his notepad, his face impassive, but Riley could see the wheels turning in his head. Donnelly leaned forward slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"They're scared of Sinclair," she continued. "Like, terrified. Apparently, he's got them in deep, and if anything goes wrong, if they slip up, they're dead. And they think I'm their only way out."

One of the senior officers from Guns and Gangs, Detective Morales, chimed in. "How connected are Mike and Kyle to Sinclair's inner circle? Do they have direct access to him, or is this guy Carl their handler?"

"Carl seems like the middleman," Riley said. "But Mike and Kyle are trusted enough to know about the shipment. They mentioned something about Sinclair being careful. He doesn't trust anyone easily, but he trusts their crew for now because they've delivered on past jobs."

Morales nodded, sharing a glance with Donnelly.

"Did you hear anything about locations? Where they might be storing the weapons, or where the shipment's coming in?" Jackson asked, leaning forward in his chair, eyes locked on Riley.

Riley shook her head. "No exact locations. They were careful not to say too much around me. But I picked up on them talking about meeting at the docks. They didn't confirm it outright, but they seemed to be using code words."

Luke, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke. His voice was low, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "And Sinclair... does he know about you? About what you are?"

Riley met his eyes for a brief moment, her chest tightening. "Yes. Mike mentioned that Sinclair found out I was a cop. "

The board room erupted into chaos.

Detective Jackson leaned over the table, his eyes gleaming with the possibilities.

"This is big," Jackson said, glancing at Riley before looking back to Sergeant Donnelly. "If Sinclair knows about her, the best way to keep her alive is by putting her undercover with her brothers. Deep cover. He'll trust her if she's working for him."

Luke's reaction was immediate, his body rigid with disbelief. "Are you out of your damn mind, Jackson? Sinclair already knows Riley's a cop. You want to throw her back into that hell and expect him to just let it slide?"

Jackson didn't flinch. "It's the only option. If we put her in a safe house, Sinclair will find her. It doesn't matter where we hide her, she's a target now. But if she's playing the part, if she's on the inside, we can control the situation. She can feed us intel."

"Control the situation?" Luke scoffed, pacing the room. "You think sending her into the lion's den is control? That's reckless, Jackson. You're risking her life to take down an arms dealer."

Val, a female officer known for her strategic mind, nodded along with Jackson. "Luke, it makes sense. If Riley stays out, Sinclair won't stop until she's dead. Undercover, she buys us time. We can take him down from the inside, and she'll be safe in the long run."

Luke's fists clenched at his sides, his voice sharp with frustration. "Safe? How the hell is she supposed to be safe when she's playing double agent with a man who could kill her in a heartbeat?"

Sergeant Donnelly, who had been watching the back-and-forth quietly, finally spoke. "Enough. It's your decision, Torres. We won't force you into anything. But you know the stakes."

All eyes shifted to her, the weight of the decision crashing down. Riley took a breath, feeling the pressure of the room squeeze tight around her chest. Part of her wanted to refuse outright, to run far away from everything her brothers and Sinclair represented. But the other part, the cop in her, knew that the only way to stop Sinclair from coming after her—or worse, other people—was to face him head-on. She had to see this through.

"I'll do it," she said softly, her voice steady despite her nerves. "I'll go undercover."

Luke's expression darkened, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of disbelief and fear. "Riley, you don't have to do this."

"I do," she replied, though the pit in her stomach screamed otherwise.

From there, the rest of the evening was a blur of questions, briefing on Sinclair, and rushed training on how to work deep undercover. The whole time, she could feel Luke's eyes boring into the back of her head. Jackson jumped in, explaining the plan with the precision of a man who'd done this many times before. "It's deep cover, Riley. No contact about the job with anyone except me as your handler. Nobody outside of this room hears about this. You will come into work as normal, but after hours, you will be acting as a double agent. You'll report to me directly, and that's it. No one else. You're to act like you're one of them. Whatever that means. If you need to move product, you do it. If you need to feed them information, I will give you information to give them. Your life depends on it."

Donnelly nodded, his face grim. "This could take months. Maybe longer. We need a solid case to bring down Sinclair. You stay in until we have that."

Riley's heart pounded in her chest as the magnitude of what she'd agreed to settled over her. Months? A year? Living like one of them, moving guns and god knows what else, with only Jackson as her lifeline?

"The department will release your brothers," Jackson continued. "On a technicality. You can be the one to tell them- tell them you're the one who got them released by saying you were there willingly. It'll make Sinclair think they're still in the clear, and send a message that you're in. That way, you can slip back in without suspicion."

Luke stared at her, betrayal flashing in his eyes. She couldn't blame him. She'd just agreed to disappear into a world she might not come back from.

__________________________________________________

The holding area was cold, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh, sterile glow over the concrete walls. Riley stood just inside the doorway, her heart hammering in her chest. Mike and Kyle were seated at a metal table, still in their holding clothes—orange jumpsuits that made her stomach twist. She never thought she'd see them like this, never thought she'd be the one standing in front of them in a situation like this.

She took a breath, pushing down her nerves. She had to play this perfectly. If she didn't, all of this would be for nothing.

"Hey," Riley said, her voice quiet but steady as she stepped further into the room.

Mike looked up first, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Kyle followed suit, his expression unreadable but equally guarded. They had always been able to sense when something was off, and right now, they were clearly skeptical.

"What the hell are you doing here, Riley?" Mike asked, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed. His dark eyes searched her face for answers she wasn't ready to give him. "Shouldn't you be out there with your precious boys in blue, celebrating?"

Riley swallowed, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "I'm getting you out of here."

Kyle snorted, leaning forward on his elbows. "Yeah, right. Last time I checked, we were on the wrong side of that line."

"I'm serious," she said firmly, her eyes flicking between them. "You're both getting released. On a technicality with the warrant. I... I said I was there willingly."

There was a beat of stunned silence. Mike and Kyle exchanged a quick glance before Mike laughed, a harsh sound filled with disbelief. "Willingly? You're telling me you convinced them you weren't kidnapped by your own brothers?"

Riley nodded, forcing herself to maintain her calm exterior. She had rehearsed this moment over and over in her head, but the reality of it was even harder than she'd imagined. "Yeah. I told them I came to see you on my own. I said I was trying to fix things, and they bought it."

Kyle studied her carefully, his eyes narrowing. "Why would you do that? Why would you stick your neck out for us after everything?"

Riley sighed, her heart aching as she looked at them. Her brothers. The only family she had left, no matter how screwed up everything was. "Because I couldn't do it," she admitted, her voice wavering just slightly. "Seeing you two in here... knowing that you could both end up locked away for God knows how long... I couldn't live with that. You're all I have left."

Mike's smirk faded, his expression softening slightly. Kyle's shoulders relaxed, the tension easing out of him.

"I can't go back to being on the other side," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I know that if I didn't do something, Sinclair would come after me. This is my only option. I'm... I'm in this now. With you."

Kyle was the first to react. His face hardened, but there was something like gratitude in his eyes. "So, you're saying you're gonna work with us? With Sinclair?"

Riley hesitated, her stomach twisting. "I don't have a choice, Kyle. Sinclair already knows I'm a cop. He's not going to just let me walk away. This is my only chance to stay alive. So, I will work with you."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his skepticism still evident, but it wasn't as sharp as before. "How'd you pull this off, really?"

"There were holes in the warrant," she explained. "I said I was there on my own, no force involved, and with some other technicalities, they're letting you go. It worked."

Mike was quiet for a long moment, his eyes scanning her face like he was looking for cracks in her story, but she didn't give him any. She kept her expression firm, her eyes locked with his, unwavering.

Finally, Mike shook his head, a half-smirk creeping back onto his face. "I'll be damned. You actually did it."

Kyle leaned back in his chair, exhaling a long breath, the tension visibly easing from his posture. "Shit, Riley. I don't know what to say. I didn't think you'd go this far for us."

Riley's chest tightened. She had gone far, all right—too far. But she kept that thought buried deep, hidden behind the mask she had to wear for now.

Mike stood up, a bit of that big-brother protectiveness creeping back into his eyes. He walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You did good, kid. This was smart. Really smart."

Riley forced a tight smile. "Yeah, well. It was my only option. Anyways, an officer will be in shortly to release your personal items back to you and let you go."

Mike nodded, seemingly satisfied with that. "All right. You go grab your things, meet us back at our place. We'll let Carl know what's happening, and he'll fill you in on what's next."

Her stomach churned at the mention of Carl. She didn't know much about him, but from what she had heard, he was dangerous—a direct link to Sinclair, and someone who wouldn't hesitate to test her loyalties.

"Okay," she said, her voice even. "I'll meet you there."

---

The drive back to her apartment was thick with tension. Luke's hands gripped the wheel tighter than usual, his jaw clenched in frustration. Riley watched him out of the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what was coming.

"You're really going through with this?" he asked, his voice barely controlled.

"I have to," she answered softly. "It's the only way to stop Sinclair."

Luke scoffed, his anger bubbling to the surface. "No. There were other ways. We could've found another way. You didn't have to throw yourself into this."

"Don't you think I know that?" she shot back, her frustration finally boiling over. "Do you think I want to do this? But if I don't, Sinclair will come after me. This is the only shot I've got."

Luke shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. "You said we'd keep things professional, just friends. And now you're walking straight into danger, and I'm supposed to be okay with it?"

"That's not fair, Luke," Riley muttered. "I'm doing this for my survival. This has nothing to do with... us."

"Oh, so there's still an 'us'?" His voice was bitter, laced with hurt.

Riley turned away, staring out the window. "I don't know."

They drove in silence for the rest of the trip. When they finally reached her apartment, she was more than ready to leave the heavy tension behind.

But when she walked inside, her stomach lurched.

A bouquet of roses sat on her kitchen island, a note tucked neatly into the petals. Her hands shook as she pulled the card out, her eyes scanning the neat handwriting. It was simple but chilling.

Looking forward to working with you. – Sinclair

Luke was behind her in an instant, his face twisted with anger. "That's it. You're not doing this."

"Luke—"

"Don't you see what this means? He's playing games. He already knows about you. Sometime between when your brothers were released- when they contacted him twenty minutes ago and now, he had someone bring flowers to your apartment. You're walking a razor's edge, Riley."

She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. "I know. But it's the only way to take him down."

He threw his hands up in frustration. "You don't have to be the one to do it."

"Yes, I do."

Before Luke could argue further, Riley shook her head and began to pack. She moved around her apartment with a tense urgency, throwing clothes into a duffel bag, barely registering what she was grabbing. The room felt too quiet, too small, the weight of the decision she'd made pressing in on her from every corner. Her hands shook as she zipped up the bag, her mind racing with what was about to happen. But her movements were automatic—robotic—because the truth was, she wasn't thinking about what she was packing. She was thinking about what she was walking into.

And Luke, standing near the doorway, watching her every move, wasn't helping.

"Riley, don't do this." His voice was tight, frustration layered with concern. He'd already tried reasoning with her for the past ten minutes, but nothing seemed to get through. "You don't have to go through with this. We can figure something else out. This is dangerous. Too dangerous."

Riley didn't look at him as she slung her bag over her shoulder, heading toward the small pile of toiletries on the bathroom counter. "I don't have a choice, Luke," she muttered, keeping her voice level. "You know that."

"Yes, you do," Luke shot back, stepping closer, his hands clenched at his sides. "We can get you protection. We'll find another way to take Sinclair down—without putting you in the middle of it."

Riley turned on her heel, frustration flaring in her chest as she faced him. "And what? Go to some safe house? Spend months—maybe even years—looking over my shoulder, waiting for the day Sinclair sends someone to find me?" She shook her head, biting back the surge of emotion rising in her throat. "I can't live like that, Luke."

He closed the distance between them, his jaw tight. "You think going undercover with your brothers is safer? You think playing both sides of this will protect you? Riley, once you're in, there's no way out. Not unless Sinclair is behind bars or dead."

She faltered, her grip on the bag tightening as his words sank in. She knew he was right—of course she did. But what choice did she really have? Sinclair already knew she was a cop. The only way to keep him from coming after her was to convince him she was on his side. Play the role. Make it convincing.

"I'm not doing this because I want to," she said, her voice cracking slightly as the truth slipped through her defenses. "I'm doing it because I have to. It's the only way I can protect myself—and maybe even my brothers."

Luke ran a hand through his hair, frustration and something else—something deeper—etched into his face. "I can't protect you if you go through with this. You know that, right? Once you're undercover, it's all on you. And if anything goes wrong..."

Riley swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words, the warning in his tone. "I know."

The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating. Luke looked at her like he was trying to find the right thing to say, the thing that might make her reconsider, but nothing came. Because there was no right thing to say.

She dropped the last of her things into the duffel bag, zipping it up with shaky hands before slinging it over her shoulder again.

"Riley..." Luke's voice was softer now, almost pleading. "You're walking into something we can't control. Sinclair is dangerous, and your brothers... they'll do whatever it takes to protect themselves. What if they turn on you? What if they sell you out to save their own necks?"

She flinched at that, her heart stuttering at the thought. Her brothers—Mike and Kyle—were family, but in this world, family didn't always mean trust. She'd learned that the hard way. Still, she had to believe they wouldn't do that. Not to her.

"They won't," she said quietly, but even to her own ears, it sounded more like a hope than a certainty.

Luke's face hardened, his jaw clenching again. "You can't know that."

"I can't know anything," Riley snapped, her frustration bubbling over. "But I'm not sitting around waiting for Sinclair to put a bullet in my back. This is the only way I can stay ahead of him."

Luke's eyes locked with hers, something dark flickering behind them. "You think Jackson has your back in all this? You think he's really going to be able to protect you once you're in? He's playing you, Riley. You're a pawn in his game to take Sinclair down."

She tensed at that, but didn't respond. She didn't want to admit that Luke's words were cutting closer to the truth than she liked. She knew Detective Jackson was driven—maybe even reckless when it came to catching Sinclair—but this was her choice. Her decision.

Riley walked past him, heading for the door. She needed to get out of the apartment before she lost her nerve. She had to follow through, even though the weight of it was crushing her. Luke followed, his voice chasing her as she moved.

"I made a promise to always be there for you," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "And you're making it impossible for me to keep it."

She froze at the door, her back to him, her heart pounding in her chest. The words hung in the air like a weight, heavy with unspoken meaning. But this—this was different. He was trying to pull her out of something that could get her killed, and she was pushing him away.

"I'm sorry, Luke," she whispered, not turning around. "But this isn't about you or me. This is about survival."

He stepped closer, the warmth of his presence almost brushing her back, but he didn't touch her. His voice was low, rough. "I don't want to lose you, Riley. Not like this."

Her chest tightened, the words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. But she couldn't let herself think about that. Not now.

She turned around, her eyes meeting his, trying to keep her emotions in check. "We already agreed, Luke. Just friends, remember?"

The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but he nodded, stepping back. "Yeah. Just friends."

But it didn't feel like just friends. Not with the way he was looking at her, like he was trying to memorize every detail, like he was afraid this might be the last time he'd see her.

Before she could respond, he grabbed her, pulling her into a heated kiss. His lips were desperate, as if he was trying to pour every ounce of what he felt for her into that one moment. When he finally pulled back, his voice was rough with emotion.

"Just in case."

Riley stared at him, her heart hammering in her chest. She wanted to say something, anything to ease the storm brewing between them, but there wasn't time. She had to go.

"Goodbye, Luke," she whispered.

Before he could say anything else, she stepped out of the apartment, closing the door softly behind her, leaving Luke standing alone in the quiet, empty space.

*******************

Author Note: 

I. Am. Devastated. 

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